


Shades in the Desert

by loosingletters



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Force Ghost Anakin Skywalker, Gen, Good Parent Anakin Skywalker, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Luke Skywalker Gives Great Hugs, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, One Shot, Pre-Star Wars: A New Hope, Tatooine (Star Wars), Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: Not even from a certain point of view did Darth Vader kill Anakin Skywalker. He wished he did, but the specter of the Jedi’s light escaped before he could finalize his fall to the dark. Meanwhile, Anakin is raising his son on Tatooine.It would be easier if:1) he weren’t a Force ghost nobody but his toddler could see and 2) Obi-Wan would stick around so somebody could teach Luke about the Force.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 71
Kudos: 954





	Shades in the Desert

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jackdaw_Kraai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackdaw_Kraai/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACK!!!!!  
> I'VE BEEN SO HYPED TO POST THIS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!

Anakin had always known that being a parent was a challenge. He had been one of the older children back on Tatooine. Young enough that he wasn’t expected to work as hard as an adult, but old enough to be given watch over the toddler in the slave quarters while their parents had to work. In the Jedi temple he had learned that it wasn’t expected for children his age to be able to mind others with the authority of an adult, but back then he had just thought of it as strange. He had been capable of looking after the young ones, so why shouldn’t he help out? The more people helped each other in the slave quarters, the more pleasant did life become for all of them. More often than not he had seen how difficult it was for the adults to get enough food and water for their families. If Anakin could aid them at least a little, he was improving their world. His own mother had declined eating during the terrible droughts so Anakin would have enough. It was the job of the older people to look after the younger ones.

The Jedi didn’t have families and at the same time, they did. They were one Order, one community. They chose to be one another’s family, which Anakin thought showed the highest kind of commitment. You didn’t own them because of blood. Of course, you didn’t always like everyone, but that was given. Still, everybody cared for their younglings at least once in their lifetime. In Anakin’s case, it had been more of a once a week basis. He preferred the presences of all the kids who didn’t judge him and were utterly innocent in their questions. Of course, they were troublesome as well, getting colors and dirt all over their tunics and over Anakin’s as well, but Anakin had enjoyed being needed by them.

So, yes, Anakin had known that being a parent wasn’t easy, that it meant self-sacrifice.

He had just expected it to be easier than _this_.

“Luke,” he said, resigned. “Sweetheart, don’t put sand in your mouth. You can’t eat that.”

The blond toddler in front of him just stared straight at Anakin as he shoveled another handful of sand into his mouth and gleefully sucked at his fingers, daring Anakin to intervene.

“You’re an awful child,” Anakin sighed and crouched down in front of his son. “Do you know what you’re doing to your father?”

Luke began to babble, informing Anakin all about how absolutely amazing his lunch was. If his son weren’t so adorable with his round cheeks and big blue eyes, Anakin would give him a stern talking to for his choice of a snack.

“Luke!”

Anakin looked away from his son to see Beru approaching quickly. His sister-in-law reminded him a lot of his mother. They were cut from the same cloth, stronger than a krayt dragon and twice as fast.

Too late Anakin noticed what Beru intended to do, so he couldn’t brace himself as she passed right through him to pick his son up.

“Honestly, Luke. Don’t wander off on your own.”

Beru walked back to the homestead, Luke in her arms. He reached out to Anakin, with his arms and the Force alike.

“Ba! Ba! Ba!” He cried and Beru soothingly ran her fingers through his hair.

“You can play with the sand later, Luke,” she told him gently, entirely misinterpreting his gestures.

For a split-second, Anakin resented Beru. It shouldn’t be her holding his son, but him. He was supposed to care for Luke, to teach and guide and calm him. He had _wanted_ to be his father. He had made plans about all the joys he had wanted to introduce his son to, all the pain he had sworn to spare him.

Feeling himself flicker, Anakin centered himself again. He had learned early on that getting angry was the opposite of helpful. It would only take Anakin back to _that place_ and he couldn’t allow that. Instead, he tried to summon happy thoughts that would chase away his bitterness like the wind drove the clouds away. Beru and Owen were taking care of Luke as if he were their own. They loved him deeply and cared for him, kept him safe when it became clearer with every day that dark times were upon them.

Luke was alive and healthy and happy. He was learning every day. He could see Anakin when nobody else, not even Obi-Wan, could.

It had to be enough.

“Don’t cry, little sunshine,” Anakin said and hurried to catch up to Luke and Beru again.

Immediately, Luke’s face lit up and he began to laugh again. It was the best sound Anakin had ever heard. If he could, he’d listen to it for the rest of his stolen life.

X

Sadly, there wasn’t much to do on Tatooine. Beru and Owen rarely left the homestead with Luke, so all Anakin did for hours and hours was exploring his surroundings and playing with Luke. He adored his son, he really did, and once Luke started crawling there was a new challenge added to it all, but he was still a little bored.

“Do you think you can start walking soon for your Dad?” Anakin asked Luke. “Just so we can explore a little more together?”

Luke struggled to get to his feet. It was really cute and Anakin began to grin. He sent Luke a wave of encouragement that his son mirrored immediately. Luke’s subconscious grip on the Force was honestly stunning. He’d be very strong when he grew up.

It was another reason Luke needed to start walking as soon as possible. They needed to get to Obi-Wan. Anakin couldn’t interact with him and he had tried so often, the thought of attempting it once more left him as nauseous as he could get. Sooner or later, Luke needed to be taught how to wield the Force by someone who was corporeal. Anakin’s gift in the Force had diminished considerably since he’d woken up on Tatooine. There were lessons Anakin was unable to instruct him in, but Luke was going to need. Obi-Wan’s hovering outside of the Lars farm was simply not enough to protect Luke in the long run.

Then, suddenly while Anakin had gotten lost in his mind again, Luke was standing. They had gotten to this point plenty of times already and Anakin was excited by ever attempt.

“That’s it, Luke!” Anakin said. “Come to Dad. One step in front of the other.”

Sitting at the kitchen table next to his son, Beru and Owen watched eagerly as Luke hesitated. Owen stood up and held out his hand for Luke to take. Luke eyes it warily, then took it. He lifted his foot and put it in front of the other.

“Your first step!” Anakin gushed. “You did it! Now just walk to me. You can do it.”

Luke took another unsteady step, then another, one more and while he still looked like he was going to fall over any moment, he was walking. If Anakin were able to be really here, Luke would have fallen straight into his arms. Instead, Owen caught him before he crashed to the ground and raised him up instead.

“You’re walking!” He exclaimed joyfully, his tone just as excited as Anakin’s. “Oh, you little troublemaker. Soon you’ll want to go racing.”

Anakin froze as Luke giggled cheerfully.

Oh, _no_. His son was going to take after him. He wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to watch Luke do something as dangerous as racing. Training in the Force was one thing, but _this_?

“You have to stop him,” Anakin told his family. “He’s not going to race anything at all ever.”

It was silly since only Luke could hear him, but pretending helped regardless.

Everything to stay sane.

X

“This would not be an issue if Obi-Wan were a more terrible Jedi,” Anakin told Luke.

The three-year-old was sitting on his bed, clutching his blanket and giving Anakin the silent treatment. Anakin didn’t know how to handle this situation. He had read plenty of parenting books when he’d learned of Padmé’s pregnancy – there had been many nights he’d been unable to sleep after all – but they hadn’t prepared him for this situation. Luke had thrown a tantrum because he’d wanted to play with Anakin and had gotten upset when Anakin was unable to roll the ball back at Luke. The boy was too young still to understand that Anakin wasn’t really there and when Beru and Owen had tried to play with him instead, Luke had thrown a fit because he’d wanted to play with his Dad.

Anakin had been touched and nearly started crying because he wanted to play with Luke. His child the one he thought he wouldn’t ever get to raise, was in front of him and all Anakin wanted to do was fulfill his every wish. Every time he called Anakin Daddy, his heart leaped out of his chest. If he could, he’d lift Luke in his arms, spin him around and tickle him until he laughed in that way that reminded Anakin of the windchimes on Naboo.

“Next time we see him-“ Anakin always said next time, as if they had actually ever really met in this section of his life, “we have to explain the situation to him. You need training.”

But a three-year-old, no matter how smart, couldn’t possibly explain to Obi-Wan Kenobi that his Padawan was still around and not just a Sith wraith.

Had Obi-Wan been just a little more attached to Luke, he wouldn’t have given him to the Lars and Anakin wouldn’t spend his days rambling at a toddler, but had his Master back. He knew that Obi-Wan, even if he weren’t able to see Anakin, would still try to make him feel included if he only knew he was there. His Master was kind and good in all the unselfish ways Anakin had never been able to and Anakin had been a fool to ever doubt his love for him.

“I shouldn’t put all the blame on his shoulders,” Anakin sighed and dropped on the bed next to Luke. “He did the right thing and sacrificed more than enough.”

Luke couldn’t lean on him, but he moved his blanket so there was an open space. Anakin put his arm around his son. It was more that he was hovering it above Luke’s shoulders. His son couldn’t feel it, Anakin couldn’t either, but this impression of an embrace was all they had and while it was no replacement for a real touch, it wasn’t like they had ever experienced one before. Yet, Anakin somehow found himself missing something that had never been his. There was this deep yearning with him, the kind that had forced him to look up to the stars as a child.

“Obi can fix this?” Luke asked softly.

Anakin nodded. “Obi-Wan can fix everything. He’s the best.”

Luke’s face scrunched up and he looked at Anakin as if he thought his father had gone crazy.

“Daddy’s the best,” Luke insisted then.

His petulant tone reminded Anakin of Padmé. It was a bittersweet remembrance. He rejoiced knowing that even without her, Luke was his mother’s son, but he loathed missing her and being damned to continue existing like this without her.

Anakin hadn’t been made for loneliness, and Obi-Wan, despite admitting so at times, hadn’t either. Obi-Wan had enjoyed being alone, surrounded by silence and peace, but he never wanted to be lonely. It had taken years until Anakin had understood that and even now he wasn’t sure whether he had truly known the difference after he had been knighted.

“I’m like, the sixth-best at max,” Anakin said. “Your mother is the best, then Obi-Wan, then Ahsoka, Beru and Owen, and maybe, but only _maybe_ , then me. They all saved me and you countless times.”

And Anakin hadn’t returned the favor.

Luke didn’t catch on to his father’s shift in mood as his eyes lit up. “Daddy, tell me a story about ‘soka!”

Anakin feigned a happy smile, then quickly covered it up with an exaggerated thoughtful expression.

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” he said. “Do you think you deserve another story?”

“Yes!” Luke shouted excitedly. “Story! Story! Story!”

“Alright, alright!”

Anakin got up and unclipped his lightsaber from his belt. It was as real as the clothes on his back and all he needed for his narration. “This is the story of how the brave Ahsoka Tano saved Cristophosis, Master Obi-Wan and me. It all began when the Separatists attacked…”

X

By the time Luke was four, they were starting to have serious problems. For one, Obi-Wan still hadn’t shown up anywhere near enough to them that Anakin could get Luke to talk to him. They had seen him plenty of times in the distance, even waved at him and his bastard of a slippery Master had waved back, but he hadn’t ever approached Luke. On top of that, Owen and Beru were kind of at their wits’ end when it came to Luke’s strange behavior.

Luke wasn’t acting weird when you took into consideration that he was a four-year-old Force-sensitive who was partially raised by his father’s Force ghost. For outsiders who knew nothing about the Force, Luke must be a strange kid. It probably didn’t help that on top of his gift, Luke was also a pretty smart child. He had truly inherited the best traits his parents had to offer.

That didn’t necessarily mean that those particular characteristics were well-suited for Tatooine. You had to be crafty on Tatooine, yes, but not too smart. Anakin could easily tell that his son was meant for more than being a moisture farmer on this dustball of a planet, he always had, but Owen and Beru didn’t see that.

They could only observe in fear and awe alike when Luke summoned his toys to him, answered their questions before they said them out loud and talked to his father. Anakin had tried to be more of a silent observer, to discourage from speaking to thin-air, but his behavior had only encouraged Luke to act out more.

“Don’t you think we should ask Kenobi if this behavior is normal?” Beru asked deep in the night after they had brought Luke to bed.

“Yes,” Anakin said from the kitchen counter. “Please. Go and drag Obi-Wan out of his hermit cave and bring him here.”

“What? You mean the flying toys and the talking to air?” Owen snorted.

To others, it might look like he was brash and abrasive, Anakin had certainly thought so the first weeks, but since then he had learned to read Owen as well as Beru could.

Or at least nearly as well.

Owen Lars was a kind man and you could tell he had been raised by Shmi Skywalker, he certainly carried on her legacy when it came to protecting people.

“Look,” Owen continues, softer this time. “I know all of this is incredible and unbelievable to us, but it is normal for them. Anakin- Anakin used to be the same as a child.”

What?

“I was not like that,” Anakin said, frowning.

He had always had good reflexes, or, going by fancy Jedi terminology, his short-time precognition was off the kirffing charts, but he hadn’t been like Luke because there were no ghosts talking to him.

“Shmi used to tell me about Anakin when I was younger. I mean, I always wanted a little brother.” Owen shrugged, then returned to fiddling with the wires of the astromech unit they had bought. Anakin had taken one look at it and started to scream because the wiring of the poor droid was messed up, it was a miracle it knew left from right. “And I think it helped Shmi too, talking about the one good thing she had while she was enslaved. She told me that Anakin used to be like that as a little boy, but Shmi made sure he didn’t act up in case any slavers saw it.”

Anakin didn’t remember that. He typically refrained from thinking too far back to his childhood. It had made him angry even when he had still been corporal and he wouldn’t know what were to happen to him should he try to recall those buried memories now. Tatooine was already a heavy weight on his shoulders. He was constantly reminded of his childhood bound in chains and his mother’s painful death. It had gotten easier to think about it, especially since he visited Shmi’s grave with Luke, but Anakin couldn’t claim he had actually dealt entirely with those emotions.

They pushed him too near to the dark.

“So you think Luke’s abilities will stop showing?” Beru asked.

Owen took a sip from his canteen and nodded. “If he’s anything like Anakin, they will.”

“I don’t want him to be like me,” Anakin said.

The Force had always rung too loudly in his ears. Luke deserved better than to carry that burden. Perhaps, had Anakin been raised as a Jedi, he wouldn’t have had so many troubles with it. He sighed and returned to the side of his sleeping son. Luke was snoring, but rested peacefully, his stuffed bantha flying just above his nose. Maybe Anakin was also just deluding himself. A Jedi’s control was excellent, but it couldn’t compare to that of a slave.

X

“Luke, don’t walk away from your uncle,” Anakin told his five-year-old child for what felt like the hundredth time already.

Following his father’s words, Luke returned to Owen’s side and held onto his outer robes, but only a few moments later he was already straying again. With a fond eye-roll, Anakin steered his son back to his uncle but he knew that wouldn’t work for long.

It was the first time Luke was in Anchorhead and he was mesmerized. There were so many sentients and their thoughts were all pulling at him. Anakin was glad he had taught Luke how to shield before they had headed here. He hadn’t been able to properly check how well they held up, his own grip on the Force was still fickle, but seeing Luke now, he was confident that his son had mastered that skill. Obi-Wan, of course, was still being a useless excuse of a Jedi and didn’t get close enough to the Lars homestead to interact with Luke.

He did, however, give Beru a handful of toys for important holidays. His Force signature was all over them. Some of those holidays they didn’t even celebrate on Tatooine, they were only celebrated on Core Worlds, and others were from Jedi traditions. For all that Jedi proclaimed non-attachment, they were fiercely protectives of the gifts they gave each other.

Luke now had an already impressive model ship collection, though Anakin had complained that the toys weren’t all identical to the originals. He had flown those ships. Obi-Wan’s wood carving skills had the tendency to make the wings of the ships too long.

“It’s loud here,” Luke said. “And I wanna see.”

“I know,” Owen and Anakin replied at the same time. “But it’s dangerous.”

Luke started to giggle at the double speak, earning himself a confused if fond look from his uncle and a tired smile from Anakin. The number of times the adults in Luke’s life said the same thing at the same time was higher than it had any right to be, but it should be no surprise given that Luke was a very adventurous kid with all kinds of reckless ideas.

The trio continued on to the market until they were near a shop that wasn’t trying to outrageously rip them off for the parts they needed to repair the broken vaporator. Anakin admired Owen’s bartering skills. Every Outer Rim native was good at haggling, you didn’t survive out there otherwise, but Owen had had the skill down to an art form. Anakin wanted to pay attention to the sale so that it would be easier for him later to tell Luke how to fix the vaporators, even if Luke would just be standing aside and observe his uncle. Unfortunately, Anakin too hadn’t seen anything but the homestead in years and found himself getting distracted by every sensation he could pick up on.

The suns had to be seriously warming up the atmosphere by now. Many people were starting to strip or disappear into the shadows depending on their species. The market was bound to close soon, but a few eager buyers were trying to make a good deal, hoping the desperation of the heat would smooth the sale.

“Look!” Luke said, pointing into the distance. “It’s Obi!”

Anakin looked away from the sell he was observing and followed Luke’s directions. In some distance indeed stood Obi-Wan, talking to a healer, or the closest thing there was on this planet. Anakin frowned and took a few steps into Obi-Wan’s direction. Something about his stance was off. Maybe he had injured himself? He was an experienced Jedi and General, with a deep aversion to doctors. His ability to take care of his own injuries was legendary. He _should_ be fine.

And yet, if he was seeking help voluntarily, it must be serious.

The person he was talking to shook their head and Obi-Wan’s shoulders sank. They wouldn’t treat him. Of course they wouldn’t. Anakin hadn’t been to a healer of that kind since his last campaign on a troublesome world with more slaves than Masters. Those healers wouldn’t waste precious medicine on an off-worlder with a posh accent. Obi-Wan was a skilled infiltrator, but some mannerisms you just couldn’t learn.

Anakin turned to look at Owen and Luke. Owen was distracted and Luke was staring at him expectantly. This was not the place to run off and confront Obi-Wan as Anakin had dreamed of, but if it was serious, there was a chance that this was the last time they would see him at all.

“Luke,” Anakin said, “I need you to go to Obi-Wan and the healer and help him, alright?”

“Okay!”

Luke sneaked one last glance at Owen, then he rushed off with Anakin’s instructions. He made his way through the crowd without any trouble, dodging everybody and barely touching the hems of their clothes. It reminded Anakin a little of the games they used to play with the younglings at the temple to teach them how to listen to the Force. Luke had no problems letting it guide him, he didn’t even notice that he was using it consciously. Just after a few moments, he was standing next to Obi-Wan and the healer.

“Hello, Obi!” Luke greeted Obi-Wan in proper accented Basic, before slipping into the slave cant Anakin spoke with him at times. “Healer, he’s family.”

Obi-Wan stared at Luke in shock, but his child didn’t even notice it.

“What’s your name then, child?” The healer countered.

Anakin smiled at his son and put his hand on his back. Neither he nor Luke could feel it, but the gesture was reassuring nonetheless.

“I’m Luke Skywalker, child of Anakin, child of Shmi, child of the desert.”

The conversation mostly flew over Obi-Wan’s head, the twitch of his fingers revealing merely that he took notice of the names that were spoken, and for a moment Anakin regretted that he had never shared those parts of his past with his former Master. He had thought about it in the quiet moments they shared in their rooms or in the exhausted aftermath of a battle, but in the end, Anakin had never spoken up, too held back by the fear of judgment.

Had Anakin said anything then, Obi-Wan would be spared the pain now.

While Anakin was standing next to Obi-Wan, it became clear that he was heavily favoring his right leg. He wanted to pull Obi-Wan into a medbay and have Kix look him over and stick him into a bacta tank, but that was impossible. What had his fool of a Master done to get hurt?

“You have a good heart, Luke Skywalker,” the healer told Luke with a kind smile.

“Thank you!” Luke replied. “Will you help Obi now?”

The healer nodded. “Yes. Sit down, friend, and let me look at your leg. What did you do?”

Still unsure of what had conspired just now, Obi-Wan sat down next to the healer and slowly exposed his leg. Carefully, he unwrapped it and soon the bandaged revealed a large and already infected wound. It looked terrible. If Obi-Wan hadn’t gotten himself any help, the leg likely would have been lost in the future.

“This is why you should stay with us,” Anakin told Obi-Wan. “Then you wouldn’t have to deal with things like this on your own.”

“What did you do?” Luke asked Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan’s face didn’t change as the healer began assembling their blades and salves, a barbaric treatment that Jedi didn’t usually undergo, but it took on a softer edge as he turned to Luke.

“Where are your aunt and uncle?” Obi-Wan asked instead of answering Luke’s much more interesting question.

The healer began cutting into the infected flesh and Obi-Wan accepted Luke’s hand when he offered it. He didn’t press it, the pain likely didn’t even really register in his mind as they had gotten used to worse in the war, but he did maneuver Luke so that he wouldn’t see the wound. Anakin was glad Obi-Wan attempted to show his son this kindness, but it wasn’t anything that Luke hadn’t seen before. A lot of former slaves in need of help stopped at the Lars homestead on their way to freedom and Owen was quite handy with a knife. Beru was better with a rifle and somebody had to watch Luke when he was starting to cry because of the operations happening a few rooms over.

“Uncle’s over there shopping,” Luke answered truthfully. “How did you get hurt?”

Anakin hadn’t even needed to tell Luke to ask, his son’s own curiosity and worry were already enough.

Obi-Wan glanced into the direction Luke had looked at and Anakin followed his gaze, but he couldn’t spot Owen either. Force, the man was probably out of his mind with worry. They needed to find him soon.

“I wasn’t careful,” Obi-Wan said. “I thought I saw my former-“

He stopped and looked at the healer still attending to his leg.

“I thought I saw my _father_ ,” Obi-Wan amended. “He died a long time ago and I was hoping he’d have some guidance for me. Instead, I stumbled right into a band of Tuskens.”

Anakin became very still. Luke kept pestering Obi-Wan with questions, effectively distracting him while the healer stitched up his wound, but his mind was somewhere else.

Obi-Wan wasn’t one for hallucinations.

Sure, the heat of the desert could have played a trick on his mind and there were countless stories of people seeing their loved ones out in the dunes. They had a name for such occasions, a whole festival celebrating it and a title for the people who could _see_ the dead. And yet, hearing such words from Obi-Wan made Anakin reconsider.

He always thought he’d be the only one left to exist like this. The darkness had torn him apart and this half-existence was his punishment. Qui-Gon Jinn had died a Jedi and a good man. There was no reason for him to have become as Anakin once was. It would make things so much easier for Anakin though. Perhaps he’d have somebody to talk to for once.

“My daddy’s always with me,” Luke told Obi-Wan, finally tearing Anakin out of his thoughts.

“What?” Obi-Wan paled, but Luke didn’t notice.

“Yeah! We play pilots together and go on adventures through the galaxy. He’s here right now too and very upset you got hurt. Do you need a kiss to make it better? My aunt always gives me a kiss when I get hurt and then I-“

“Luke!”

A shout interrupted Luke’s monologue. The trio looked to their left where a panicked Owen Lars was rushing at them. As soon as he stood in front of them, he picked Luke up as if he weighed nothing.

“Thank the suns,” he sighed in relief. “Luke, you can’t just run away!”

“But he needed help!” Luke protested and pointed at Obi-Wan. “Daddy said so!”

“And you need to stay safe,” Owen told Luke harshly.

Luke’s lip trembled and Anakin could feel the guilt settling in. His son disliked causing others heartache and Anakin was sorry he had forced his son into this situation.

“He was perfectly safe,” he told Owen unnecessarily. “Obi-Wan wouldn’t have let anything happen to him.”

As soon as Anakin mentioned the man, Owen eyed Obi-Wan, who was still sitting on the ground. The healer was finished now and rebandaging his leg.

“What have you done to yourself, Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan only waved with his hand and shook his head. “Nothing important and Luke was so kind to come to my aid. He is a very… imaginative child.”

One of these days, Anakin would get used to being regarded as the figment of a child’s imagination. It would not be today but sometime in the future he’d manage.

“He misses what he never had,” Owen replied. His tone wasn’t harsh but he also wasn’t exactly inviting. “You will be alright?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. _No_ , his entire posture screamed.

Nobody picked up on it though because Obi-Wan had always been a master at hiding his own weaknesses. Anakin was able to read him because the few years on Tatooine had made him sloppy already. His face wasn’t entirely smooth, he was tugging at the hems of his sleeves. Anakin knew all of Obi-Wan’s tells and he was broadcasting them so loudly, it was irritating.

“Take care then,” Owen said and bid Obi-Wan goodbye.

Luke looked back at Obi-Wan from Owen’s arms and waved at him. Anakin stayed behind a little longer, watching over his Master.

“Who is the boy to you?” The healer asked.

They weren’t pressing or demanding an answer. Anakin knew Obi-Wan could just walk away and the healer would not refuse him when he returned with another ailment. Their law was that of secrecy and blood ties could be dangerous.

“My nephew,” Obi-Wan answered in a moment of weakness and perhaps also despair. “He’s the son of my brother.”

Anakin wanted to touch him. To hug him and apologize and cry and beg for forgiveness he didn’t deserve. He could scream at the injustice of it all, but what use was the hurt of a specter nobody could see or hear?

There was a storm raging in the desert but nobody was there to witness it.

X

When Luke turned six, he had finally made a closer friend. Biggs was two years older, but he was kind and didn’t mind it when Luke started talking to Anakin. Anakin of course tried to fade a little into the background when the two met up to give the kids some space, but he wouldn’t abandon his son. He had to protect him, it was the whole reason he was here.

Obi-Wan hadn’t shown up in months, so that denied Anakin all kinds of opportunities as well. He had hoped that after their meeting in the market so many sunrises ago, Obi-Wan would finally take a little more active role in Luke’s upbringing. But if anything, his presence had receded even more into the background.

It was _frustrating_.

“This is stupid,” Anakin muttered and kicked up the sand.

Well, he didn’t actually kick up the sand. He was still a ghost, but the wind rushed over the dunes in that moment so Anakin pretended he had done it. Luke and Biggs were playing in some distance, chasing each other under Beru’s watchful eyes as she fixed the vaporator. Owen was sick at home so she had taken the boys out with her. The Tuskens wouldn’t be near their property during this season so it was safe for them to wrestle in the sand. Biggs was the one who did most of the wrestling once he had Luke pinned. His son, however, was getting quite proficient at evading Biggs reaching for him. He was a little young to get him started on ‘saber katas, but Anakin had figured that out here Luke needed every advantage he could get. If said advantage turned out to be a Soresu stance, then Anakin was glad he had taught him.

“He’s fast.”

“Yeah,” Anakin agreed, proud as Luke duck and rolled to the side.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Anakin jumped to the side. The boys were accounted for, so was Beru, there should be nobody here.

In shock Anakin stared at the apparition in front of him.

“Qui-Gon?” Anakin whispered.

The old Jedi stood tall in front of Anakin, still somehow looming over him as large as Anakin remembered him to have been. He looked the same he had when he’d died, even if his colors were as pale as Anakin’s. He was smiling softly, as kind as Anakin had hoped all Jedi would be when they’d eventually come to save all the slaves.

The Jedi had never come, but they had been kind regardless.

“Hello, Anakin.”

He hadn’t spoken with anyone but Luke in six years. He wanted to think that this was a trick of the light, of his own mind. A new torture designed to hurt him. He hadn’t considered the possibility that he could go mad from the loneliness in years, not since Luke had been a toddler, but perhaps he should have.

“Is it really you?” He asked cautiously.

“It is, but why are you surprised? You are here as well, aren’t you?”

_Yes_ , Anakin wanted to answer. But he had paid for it with blood and more pain than anybody except Palpatine himself was capable of causing. This was as much blessing as it was punishment. Qui-Gon had died to defeat the Sith as Anakin had should have. He had been a great Jedi, wise and strong. He had been bold enough to stand up to the Council to see Anakin trained and what had Anakin done with it? Spit on his grave-

“You’re flickering, Ani,” Qui-Gon said, his brow creased in worry.

“I know,” Anakin breathed and tried to pull his thoughts into himself again.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

But Anakin was not at peace, that was the whole reason he was still here, stuck in-between the worlds, running and hiding.

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

But Anakin didn’t know how exactly he had become this. Death would have been kinder, fading would be kinder, but then he wouldn’t be here to watch over his son.

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

But Anakin had burned, was still burning underneath the sun he couldn’t feel-

“ _Breathe_.”

Qui-Gon’s hands rested on Anakin’s shoulder, non-threatening. Anakin hadn’t been touched in years, the gesture almost shut him down entirely. He was drawing circles on his back as if Anakin was still that terrified boy, watching Tatooine disappear as he wondered how much he was really worth to his new Master. Qui-Gon had sat down next to him then too and promised that he was free, that he needn’t worry because he would be a Jedi and the Jedi protected their own.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin choked out. “I didn’t- You thought I-“

“Be calm, Anakin. My assumptions do not matter. You only need to trust the Force.”

But Anakin didn’t know how to trust the Force, not anymore. It used to shout so loudly at him, deafening him to the rest of the world, constantly taking away his attention. Not it was so silent, Anakin couldn’t hear it at all. _He_ had taken it all with him and left Anakin like this.

“Daddy?”

Anakin opened his eyes to see Luke staring at him. Biggs was standing right next to him, curiously watching Luke, but no amusement or hurtful glee could be seen in his face. If anything, he was as worried as Luke.

“Are you okay? And who are you?”

Qui-Gon looked surprised that Luke was addressing him.

“My name is Qui-Gon Jinn, Luke.”

Luke’s eyes widened and he pulled at Biggs’ sleeves.

“What did your Dad say?” Biggs asked.

His last name was Darklighter, Anakin recalled. A slave name if Anakin ever heard one. Perhaps he didn’t think of Luke as strange but a _seer_. Those who walked into the desert and saw the spirits of the deceased guiding them through the dunes.

“It’s not my dad!” Luke exclaimed excitedly. “But the man who helped free him! Are you here to help us too?”

Qui-Gon nodded and let go of Anakin to reach for Luke. His hand rested just a hairsbreadth above Luke’s golden crown.

“You look a lot like your father,” Qui-Gon said, causing Luke to smile proudly.

Anakin had taken notice of that as well. He had wondered whether that was the reason Obi-Wan was avoiding them as well. The older Luke got, the more did he resemble Anakin. He had inherited plenty from Padmé of course. The shape of his eyes and ears came to mind, as well as her temper, but his resemblance to Anakin couldn’t be ignored.

“Thank you!” Luke replied. Then related to Biggs what he had said.

Anakin continued watching as Luke, Qui-Gon and Biggs kept chatting. The boys quickly roped Qui-Gon into telling them a story. The disrupted communication should make the whole endeavor quite exhausting but the children were so excited, they weren’t bothered. After a while, Beru called the boys to the Speeder so she’d take them home. They both pouted visibly when they realized storytime was over now, but followed her after she promised them sweets for dessert.

“How are you here, Qui-Gon?” Anakin finally asked the Master.

“I discovered how to pass into the Force shortly before my death. I am now here to guide Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied. He looked saddened now, but his expression immediately lightened when he gazed upon Anakin.

Anakin was once more feeling like a child whose parent wanted to pretend that everything was alright.

“How is he? Has he said-“ Anakin stopped. Obi-Wan wouldn’t be able to interact with Qui-Gon any more than he was able to talk to Anakin.

“He’s grieving, but the Force is with him. He misses you.”

Anakin laughed bitterly. “He _misses_ me? I am the reason all of this happened. He wouldn’t-“

“You are his family. _Anakin Skywalker will always be my brother_ , he said so himself. I think he feared my rejection, but I have never been prouder of my Padawan’s compassion and love than in that moment.”

“He feared your rejection,” Anakin repeated hollowly. He couldn’t believe what Qui-Gon was implying in those innocent words. “Can he see you?”

Qui-Gon looked upon Anakin, not with pity, a good Jedi never pitied anybody, they merely related and showed their compassion.

“He will be able to see you too someday. The Force wills it.”

“Does it now?” Anakin bit back, the words harsher than he had intended them to be.

“Can’t you tell?”

“No!” Anakin shouted. “I can’t tell kriffing anything! The Force is _gone_. _Vader_ took it all!”

At first, Qui-Gon didn’t do anything. He studied Anakin, as if waiting for him to remedy his statement. Tough luck, that would never happen. Anakin truly experienced emptiness now. It had gotten worse with every passing year. The stronger the Sith at the other end of the galaxy became, the weaker did Anakin become.

“Is that truly how you feel?”

“How else am I supposed to feel?”

“Oh, Ani, I’m so sorry. The Force hasn’t left you. It is still with you. You just need to start listening to it.”

Qui-Gon’s words were probably well-meant, but Anakin couldn’t hear that. All he felt was disappointment and longing. Anakin had always been connected to the world around him this deprivation was draining him.

“I need to go,” Anakin finally said. “Luke needs me.”

“Ani-“

“Safe it, Master Jinn.”

Anakin felt like he was admitting defeat. He knew that if he left now he wouldn’t be able to see Qui-Gon for a while, but he couldn’t stay. He had to keep watch over Luke, the one thing he could still do. No matter how much he enjoyed being able to talk to a second person, hearing such lies about the Force still hurt too much, even though he more than deserved it. Anakin flickered and returned to Luke’s side.

“Where’s your friend, Daddy?” Luke asked curiously.

Anakin smiled and brushed his hand through Luke’s hair. “He had to go.”

Everybody always had to leave.

X

Anakin would have sworn that the other children that had slowly assembled around Luke were not as much trouble as him. He was also aware that they weren’t exactly nice to his son and only tolerated him because Luke was a ridiculously skilled pilot and Biggs genuinely liked him. The Darklighters were one of the richer moisture farmers around and accordingly influential. While Tatooine wasn’t Coruscant where every get-together outside of the Jedi Temple – and during the war even in it – was politically motivated, status still mattered. Especially when you were a poor child with a slave name.

In moments like this Anakin wished that Obi-Wan would have taken Luke to Naboo. He knew it had been too risky to give Luke to Padmé’s family, but at least there he wouldn’t have had to deal with water shortages and broken droids.

“Luke,” Anakin said sternly. “Get out of the speeder and fly back home _now_.”

Luke was still a sweet kid and Anakin adored him, but unfortunately, he had started testing Anakin’s patience. It wasn’t like Anakin could punish him in any way but to give him the silent treatment. Luke had begun capitalizing on that by refusing to listen to him.

“Luke Naberrie Skywalker, you turn around this speeder right now!” Anakin shouted.

Luke twitched and for a moment Anakin regretted raising his voice, but then he recalled that his son was currently going off on his own to break deals with Jawas. Anakin should have kept his mouth shut when Owen had begun grumbling about getting spare parts, then Luke wouldn’t have gotten this horrible idea.

“But we need to repair the vaporators,” Luke finally spoke up for the first time since they had left the Lars homestead. “If we don’t, we can’t pay the water tax this month.”

Anakin knew that. That sleemo Jabba had raised the taxes again and everyone was bleeding to meet ends, the Lars more so than any other moisture farmer in the region given how small their farm was.

“Yes,” Anakin agreed. “But it is not your job to fix that. You are a child. You’re supposed to be out playing with your friends.”

“They don’t even like me,” Luke muttered and accelerated even more.

Owen’s predictions from his toddler years had come true, Luke was just as much of a racer and adrenaline junky as him.

“That’s not-“

Anakin was quickly shut up by Luke glaring at him as fiercely as Padmé could. He was her child for sure. Nobody could deny that.

“Luke, please,” Anakin tried again. “This isn’t safe.”

“But we’re already here!”

Unfortunately, they had reached the monstrous dwelling of the Jawas. It wouldn’t surprise Anakin if they would try to take Luke in as one of their own, disassembling the speeder while they were at it. Luke stopped the speeder in some distance from the Jawas, then grabbed his back and jumped out of the vehicle. Anakin wanted to scream, but that wouldn’t stop Luke from marching on. If anything, the blond boy would just huff and continue on his path with renewed energy. Luke was a sweet, kind and patient child, except for all those moments his stubbornness made itself known.

“Please be careful,” Anakin finally said, admitting defeat. “They are not your friends.”

“I know, Father,” Luke answered and steadily walked into the direction of the Jawas.

Anakin missed the child who used to call him Daddy, bright and eagerly. That Luke had listened to him most of the time. Now he was already starting to rebel. Anakin hadn’t done that until he was around twelve or so, going by the steadily rising amount of _Ah-_ nakins he could remember Obi-Wan throwing in his direction.

“Hello!” Luke finally called once he was within the Jawas’ sights. “I’ve come to trade.”

Anakin had a bad feeling. He hadn’t been sick or thirsty or hungry in years. He couldn’t, he was already half-gone, partially passed into the Force. Yet he felt uneasy the more steps Luke took in the Jawas’ direction.

“I’m searching for parts to repair vaporators,” Luke said and began to bargain with the traders.

Anakin kept looking around. He wasn’t sure what was tipping him off, certainly not the Force. The Force had never been subtle with him. Qui-Gon Jinn had been dead for decades and the loneliness must have driven him mad to talk of such.

“Too expensive!” Luke shouted.

He had his hands on his hips and was leaning forward. It was not as impressive as it was when Beru did it, but in a few years, Luke would shape up to be a terrifying haggler.

“I only want-“

Luke was interrupted by the screeching of a Jawa. Anakin’s head snapped up into the direction the screaming was coming from. Then, in-between the sand dunes, he could see them.

_Tuskens_.

No.

“Luke, speeder! Now!” Anakin snarled.

Wide-eyes, Luke did as told, rushing towards the vehicle. For every five steps Luke took, the Tusken only needed one.

“Go, go, go!” Anakin shouted.

It was as if he were screaming against the sandstorm, forced to watch as all his nightmares repeated themselves over and over again.

Luke wasn‘t fast enough. Not even when he dropped the extra weight of his bag did he pick up the necessary speed. He kept running, sinking into the sand, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Anakin was forced to watch as a Tusken reached out, his hand almost touching Luke’s collar. His son ducked quickly enough and threw his hands behind him instinctively. The sand rose up once, guided by the Force, but that was no hindrance to the Tusken who made their home amongst the desert’s cruelty.

He was going to touch his boy. They were going to hurt his son, all Anakin had left. His last tie to this world and they were going to torment and ruin him as they had his mother. Anakin roared and threw himself in-between Luke and the Tusken. It felt like flames were licking at his legs and torso. He had spent seven years without any sensation at all and now the heat of the sun bore down on him. He could taste ashes on his tongue and pulled, pulled, _pulled_ at the darkness he had banished into the deepest pits of himself where nobody could reach it. He clawed the lid open and reached inside, dragging it out and wrapping himself in the painful armor.

Behind him, Luke was scrambling to his speeder.

Anakin could hear him crying, experienced his panic and fear as if they were his own. He had no blade, but he didn’t need it. With a cry, he threw himself on the Tusken, let the darkness suck the air out of the beast’s lungs. He choked, but Anakin didn’t let go.

He didn’t stop until Luke felt incredibly far away.

Exhaustion washed over Anakin as death took the monster beneath him. And then, with another slow breath, Anakin flickered out of existence.

X

He woke in a clearing filled with flowers. He smelled their sweet scent and melancholy overcame him. He had tried to torch this place, to tear the connection to shreds, but it hadn’t helped. Nothing he had done had been able to destroy this bond so Anakin and buried beneath shields stronger than gravity.

Only anger had ever been able to crack them.

Slowly, he rose to his feet.

Above him, the sky was as blue as his eyes. A soft breeze moved the grasses and the entire scenery was too perfect, to repetitive. After a few minutes of standing, he knew how often the wind would blow in a minute. It was all an illusion, a simulation.

Anakin didn’t want to leave.

He had to.

He made his way over to the house in some distance. When he crossed its threshold, memories of spending golden evenings here with the love of his life threatened to bring him to his knees.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look!”

The child in front of him looked startlingly like Luke. He had brown hair and brown eyes, the coloring Anakin had always wanted, and of course it was a boy. Padmé had always been so sure they’d raise a boy when Anakin had been convinced they’d have a daughter.

In the end, both of them had been wrong.

They hadn’t been able to raise a child together.

“I drew this for you!” The child said.

Anakin smiled kindly and took the picture from them. The depicted scene spoke of blood and torment.

“It’s very nice,” he said as if he had looked at a painting of a rainbow. “Have you shown me yet?”

The child bit on his lips and shook his head. “You never come here. And you’re hurting really badly again. Are you going to make yourself stay this time?”

Anakin couldn’t stay. It certainly would be comfortable here for him. He could create himself the home he wanted, the future Padmé and he had imagined. Slowly but steadily he would fade away to make place for the demon in his skin and he wouldn’t even notice.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said and took the child’s hand to lead them upstairs to the room that would have been Luke’s. “I can’t stay.”

The first step on the stairs hurt, but nobody had ever claimed that being in the light was easy. It could burn his skin just as easily as the dark, especially Anakin’s who experienced so much more of the Force than others.

“Why!?” The child wailed as Anakin forced himself to continue. “Don’t you love me?”

“I do,” Anakin replied. “Which is why I have to go. Tell Vader if he truly wants me gone, he should come down here and face me himself.”

Anakin was done running. He wasn’t going to hide anymore. If Vader wanted to be a Sith, wanted to wreck even more damage, then he could kill Anakin Skywalker himself at his Master’s behest. Anakin had spent years afraid and in hiding, a mere shade of himself. He wouldn’t let Vader anywhere near Luke, he’d keep that particular door in their mind shut until his dying breaths, but he had to protect his son and he couldn’t do that when he was half-here, half-there.

He was one with the Force and the Force was with him. Qui-Gon had been right. The Force had never left him, Anakin had just made himself deaf to it because he was terrified Vader would use their connection to get to Luke.

“But you never come here,” the child repeated as Anakin reached their final destination. “You’re too afraid of burning it all down.”

And Vader never would. He was of the dark side, too afraid to view the place where, in a happier world, Padmé and he would be raising their child.

“I know.”

Anakin crouched down in front of the child and pulled them into a hug. It was nothing compared to real touch, but just for a moment he let himself enjoy this dream.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

And he _was_. He should apologize for so many things, all his broken promises, but right now he needed to go so that he might keep one last promise. He rose to his full height again and stepped through the doors of the nursery.

X

He was not greeted by the sight of a child’s room, the endless desert of Tatooine or the Lars homestead, but instead, he found himself standing in an unfamiliar room.

He was still on Tatooine, that much was obvious from the sand that was lingering on the floor and could never be cleaned away entirely. Frowning, Anakin looked around, trying to figure out where he had woken up. He still felt a little disorientated by the sudden shift in places, which made concentrating harder.

_Focus_ , he told himself and recalled the peace he had experienced on that Naboo clearing. The anger always brought him there, pulled him back into his mind, but that was because it sought to entrap him in that perfect dream to slowly drain him of his energy. He was no follower of the dark side. All he needed was the Force. Much gentler than before with the Tusken, Anakin opened himself up to the Force. He could feel the anger boiling beneath his skin, but instead of pulling at that, he reached for the light instead, as he had in his dreams.

It came so easily to him.

It felt like he was truly breathing for the first time since he had been made into this.

“Daddy!”

At first, Anakin winced, the tone so similar to that of the child’s. This wasn’t a dream world, however. Anakin had made it out that and returned to the place where he was meant to be. The Force always provided if you just cared enough to listen.

Anakin opened his eyes.

Luke was standing in front of him, looking like he wanted to do nothing more than throw himself into Anakin’s arms. His knees were scrapped, and he had tear tracks on his cheeks, but otherwise, he was fine.

_Go on,_ the Force seemed to tell him.

Vader couldn’t reach Luke. Anakin was protecting him and would continue to do so. He didn’t have to be afraid of being in his son’s presence, of hurting him.

“Luke,” Anakin said, then stepped forward and pulled his son into a hug.

He expected to pass through him as he had the many times before, but that wasn’t the case. For all that he was still a construct of the Force, the power that tied the universe together was much stronger than the physical flesh. He held his son for the first time in his life. Anakin could feel the warmth Luke emitted, how rough the fabric of his clothes was, and how soft his golden locks.

“I’m sorry,” Luke cried and buried his head in Anakin’s tunics. “I’m so sorry. Please, don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t,” Anakin promised. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Slowly, he pulled himself from Luke to run his hands over his son’s cheeks, wiping away the tears. It was strange to interact with the world in such a way when he could tell that he didn’t entirely belong. He still wasn’t made out of flesh and blood, but he was of the Force and the Force connected everything.

“Luke, sunshine, where are we?”

“With Obi and Qui,” Luke hiccupped. He was trying to stop his voice from wavering, but he didn’t exactly have himself under control yet. “You were gone and I didn’t know what to do so I went to Qui-Gon ‘cause he’s like you.”

“Well done, kiddo,” Anakin praised him. “You did the right thing.”

Then this must be Obi-Wan’s home then. Anakin had never actually been inside it in all these years, unwilling to part from Luke’s side. The home was small, practical and lived in, but it missed all the things Anakin had come to associate with Obi-Wan’s housekeeping. There were no random plants Obi-Wan had been forced to adopt because Anakin’s room had run out of space, and the air didn’t smell like the sweet tea Obi-Wan used to drink. No collection of datapads was lying around casually, only the discarded robe over the one chair of the house reminded of the fact that this place was indeed inhabited by Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Where are they?” Anakin asked.

“Outside, picking up herbs,” Luke replied. “They said they’d be back soon.”

And, as if summoned by Luke’s words, the door opened and Obi-Wan stepped into the house. He looked so much older than he should, a deep exhaustion and wariness lingered in his bones.

“Luke, can you-“

Obi-Wan stopped speaking as he stared at Luke- no.

Not at Luke.

“…Anakin?”

Disbelief colored Obi-Wan’s voice. He still said Anakin’s name the same way, with his proper High Coruscanti Core World accent.

“Hello, Master,” Anakin greeted, his voice so high-pitched it sounded like that of a youngling. “I’m sorry I didn’t come by earlier. I had to look after Luke.”

Anakin’s words sounded ridiculous in his own ears, but he didn’t care because Obi-Wan could finally see him. After years of no real contact, of wishing to scream and cry and shout at the man in front of him, Anakin found that he could do neither. He didn’t want to let go of Luke, so instead he just picked him up with the ease of a man who hadn’t spent years as an intangible ghost, who still was far from a living being.

“Thank you for keeping watch over him,” Anakin continued. “And I’m sorry for-“

_For everything._

Words couldn’t describe what Anakin had to make up for. All this pain and bloodshed. It had not been him who had marched to the temple, not really, and neither had he laid burning on the shores of Mustafar, but he remembered it all the same.

Obi-Wan crossed the remaining distance between them with ease and pulled Anakin into a hug. His fingers dug into Anakin’s back and his shoulders began to tremble. Anakin had no idea how he should react to this.

“Don’t cry, Master,” he said, almost a little hysterical because he could count the times he had seen Obi-Wan cry on one hand with some fingers still left over. “Please don’t. This is Tatooine, you’re not supposed to waste water here.”

“Shut up, Anakin,” Obi-Wan ordered. “Just- shut up. _Please_.”

“Okay,” Anakin replied. “I can do that. I can totally do that. Shutting up now.”

His sight began to blur. For a split-second, he thought that he was starting to flicker again, but instead he felt hot tears run over his cheeks, leaving stains.

“I’m sorry Master,” Anakin whispered. “I missed you.”

Anakin took Obi-Wan’s grip on his shirt as a confirmation that he wasn’t alone in that thought. He hadn’t known how much he had missed his Master until then. They had lived in each other’s pockets and minds for over a decade and that kind of closeness lingered. Returning to that felt like homecoming, it reminded him of all the best memories of his childhood.

“How are you here?” Obi-Wan asked as he slowly, reluctantly really, let go of Anakin. “You- _Vader_.”

Anakin winced, something Luke immediately took notice of. He made use of Anakin’s newfound presence and immediately squeezed his father a little tighter. The whole action grounded Anakin as he took a moment to collect himself.

“Becoming a Sith, falling… It’s nothing like the stories. You don’t just give yourself to the darkness. You cut yourself to pieces and shed all remains of your former self. It’s like cutting a training bond.”

Not that Anakin would know what that was like. Obi-Wan and he had never severed theirs and he hadn’t abandoned his with Ahsoka.

“But you cut it with yourself,” Anakin concluded. “No person is truly evil just as nobody is truly good. We are a collection of choices, but Sith think in absolutes. It’s why they all go mad after a while. They try to cut their own light off and kill it. That’s why you normally can’t return to the light after a fall. You’ve severed your connection with it, mutilated yourself. It doesn’t mean the light is truly gone, but trying to rekindle that connection is overwhelming. You get trapped in your own mind and insanity as time keeps passing.”

Obi-Wan looked at him in horror. Forcefully breaking bonds with other people could already get extremely ugly and damaging to the participants. To think of doing something like that to yourself was nauseating.

“I don’t know what went wrong with me,” Anakin continued. “I was there, kneeling in front of Sidious and then I was still there but it didn’t feel like I was moving my own body. I could just watch and scream. Then Mustafar happened and Vader burned. Perhaps I flatlined for a moment and could connect with the Force in that time. I have no idea. I just woke up here, seeing you give Luke to Beru and Owen.”

For a while Obi-Wan said nothing, then his expression broke. Anakin couldn’t describe it in any other way. It reminded him of a mirror fracturing, the string of an instrument snapping, a dam breaking and all the water crushing into the valley at once.

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, grief swaying him. “I failed you.”

Anakin shook his head. “I made the choice, I fell. There was nothing you could have done. All that matters is that you’re here now and I’m here and that we can teach Luke how to use the Force because he seriously needs some training, Master.”

Obi-Wan studied him and whatever he saw in Anakin’s expression, it was enough to convince him as a tired smile sneaked up on him.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed. “He does need training. When I wouldn’t listen to him, he practically tore through all my shields. You’re strong with the Force, young one.”

Luke returned Obi-Wan’s smile twice as bright and cheerful. “Daddy says it’s strong in our family.”

“It is,” Anakin whispered and pressed a soft kiss to Luke’s temple. “And it’s time you learn how to use it.”

_12 Years Later_

“Just ignore them,” the blond kid told Han with a hand wave. “They are _always_ bickering.”

Han looked back at the little group crammed to the back of the Falcon. The kid – Lus? Luie? Luke? Han couldn’t recall – sat down on one of the benches and took a datapad out of his backpack and began reading. He looked like the most normal person out of the group, dressed in more or less typical Tatooine desert garb when you ignored the two weird metal tools hanging from his belt. Maybe they were for the droids? Han had never been good with those. The old astromech was beeping aggressively while the gold protocol next to it was fussing about particularly everything. Han had never met a droid with anxiety, but the galaxy was big and Tatooine always attracted the strangest fellows. The person who stood out the most out of everyone of this group, however, was the old man who was arguing with _thin-kriffing-air_.

“I’m sorry, _Anakin!_ How exactly was I supposed to inform Bail of that?” The old man said, addressing the empty space next to him. “Excuse me, Senator, but the light side of my Padawan is currently still haunting me and he would have appreciated some input in Leia’s upbringing. Particularly when it comes to sending a 19-year-old on risky missions for the Rebellion?”

The old man threw his hands in the air. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, then rolled his eyes.

“ _You_ were in charge of an army at that age. Don’t give me that ‘ _just a child’_. Leia has been raised as the princess of Alderaan. I dare say she is more mature and responsible than you were at that age.”

The blond kid looked away from his datapad at times to glance at the old man. It looked like he was pulling up schematics on the droids that were accompanying them. Suddenly, Han had a very bad feeling about it all.

“You let me fight Maul,” the kid suddenly spoke up. Then he blushed in embarrassment. “I didn’t just jump into the fray!”

Great, so the kid was arguing with thin-air as well. Han wasn’t so sure anymore if they could actually deliver the credits they had promised him.

“For the last time, Anakin, Cato Neimoidia doesn’t count!”

Han exchanged a look with Chewie. They would just have to make this delivery quickly. Get the group settled on Alderaan, take the credits from them and quickly buy their freedom from Jabba so they could continue on with their business.

The worst that could happen now was to be stuck with them for any second longer than needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I hope you all enjoyed it!  
> Since questions are bound to come up: I was wondering about the whole "you cannot return from the dark" and figured what if that was literal. If being dark meant killing all your light - and what happens when you don't do that?  
> But also I really wanted to write about toddler Luke.
> 
> Anyway what happens in the future? Anakin steals his 'saber from Luke and attempts to stab Vader so Obi-Wan can escape. Fails in the physical world, attempts to do so again at a later date. Leia is very confused by the sudden new family members. Han does not escape them. Anakin makes peace with Vader or defeats him, idk and retires to Naboo with Obi-Wan where he proceeds to marvel about the lack of sand until Luke & Leia drag them to the new Jedi academy where Anakin spends the rest of his life watching over the new Order and stabbing Sith Lords.
> 
> Jokes aside, I'd love to hear what you think about this piece!


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